goodbyes

Gabriel is out of sorts. Maybe he's getting sick. Or maybe he has more sadness and anger inside him than he knows how to handle. (Most likely it's both). Little things uncharacteristically throw him for a loop; a minor bike crash this afternoon resulted in wailing, prolonged tears. He's in a kind of developmental stall out. I'm desperate for him to experience a confidence-boosting, joyful breakthrough in soccer, biking, reading - something. But everything seems hard and taxing. It's as if his feelings are sucking up all his extra energies that normally go towards mastering new things. I wish I could send him to a kid-version of a 19th century sanitarium: a verdant, peaceful place where nice nurses in starched whites would push him around in an enormous jogging stroller, feed him healthful and delicious food, and leave him alone while he plays with legos on a green lawn all morning.

I anticipated the losses that would come with the arrival of Beatrice for Gabriel. He lost his place as the baby of the family, he lost all the routines and rhythms of our daily family life, he lost his special place as Didi's one and only sibling. But I hadn't really considered the loss of preschool. Gabriel's cooperative nursery school is a caring, intimate community. He loves his friends; he loves many of their parents, too. The routines at school stayed blessedly consistent when his baby sister arrived. And now it's the last week of school, and he's so sad.

It wouldn't be so bad if he weren't anticipating the great Preschool Diaspora next year. I can think of eight different schools off the top of my head that his friends will be attending for kindergarten. Many families we know are moving this summer to the suburbs (land of better school districts). Last night at dinner Gabriel suggested we might consider moving back to Lancaster, where Gramma and so many friends live, since so many of his Annapolis friends are moving anyway.

Oh dear! All I can really do is attempt to build excitement around and connections in his new school community. That, and try to patiently wait out this time of quick temper and easy tears. I know this too shall pass for Gabriel, as the transitions soften and he slowly finds a new equilibrium. But while he walks this hard in-between stretch, how my heart hurts for him!